Priorities (Don't Keep Me Waiting)
by darkbluesharpie
Summary: Dean wants attention, but Castiel is too busy with work. Worried that he is starting to lose his boyfriend to his job, Dean decides to take matters into his own hands. If he can't go to Castiel, he'll just have to make Castiel come to him.


**Title**: Priorities (Don't Keep Me Waiting)  
**Pairing**: Dean/Castiel  
**Rating**: NC-17  
**Words**: ~8,000  
**Warnings**: Somnophilia, masturbation, nipple play, marking, rimming, oral sex, men's lingerie, panty!kink, top!Cas, bottom!Dean, slight d/s elements, short appearance of a vibrator, pining!Dean, establish relationship, some angst and lots of fluff, porn with feels, plus Dean in lingerie provoking Castiel into having sex with him! Yay!  
**Disclaimer**: I own nothing, nor do I make any profits from this story  
**Summary**: Dean wants attention, but Castiel is too busy with work. Worried that he is starting to lose his boyfriend to his job, Dean decides to take matters into his own hands. If he can't go to Castiel, he'll just have to make Castiel come to him.  
**Author's Notes**: Dean in panties is my jam. I am starting to become more and more shameless with my smut writing, and that makes me rather pleased. I apologize for any grammatical issues and misspellings, this is unbeta'd.

* * *

It wasn't his fault.

That morning, Dean had woken up excited and ready, the remnants of his enticing dream still fresh in his mind. Everything was telling him _yes_, his skin tingling with arousal as he rolled over and turned towards his boyfriend, still fast asleep- peaceful, content.

Unsuspecting.

Castiel was on his back, his arm playing Dean's pillow as he slept. Slowly, Dean crawled over him, adjusting the blanket as he went and watching his face intently for any signs of disturbance. It was hard to keep himself from giggling at his own plans, adrenaline coursing through him making him giddy. He anticipated Castiel's reaction when he woke up and saw what Dean was doing to him- there were so many possibilities of how this could play out, and that's what excited him the most. He worked himself lower and lower, going inch by inch, stopping when Castiel stirred, and continuing when he stilled.

When he was in place, nestled down between Castiel's legs, he gently worked his boxers down (why he bothered to sleep in anything was beyond Dean, who liked to be naked as often as was legal), just low enough to ease him out. Dean hadn't expected him to be erect, but he had hoped there would be some amount of arousal that typically accompanied their mornings together.

Not that it mattered much, he thought with a shrug. Dean had never had a problem getting Castiel hard in the past, and there was no reason to doubt his talents now.

Keeping his eyes trained on the sweet, sleeping face of his boyfriend, he pressed the flat of his tongue along the side of his flaccid penis, repeating the motion a few times until he felt it shift under his lips. Following his tongue's path to the tip of his cock, his lips closed oh, so softly around the head, and gave it the smallest amount of suction.

His lips formed a smirk when he felt Castiel's cock start to swell under his ministrations, and full-out grinned when his body shifted against the sheets. He let out a soft sound, but continued to sleep as Dean worked the tip of his tongue into the slit at the head, almost laughing when it caused Castiel to jerk slightly into his mouth.

And that gave him an idea.

Gradually, he took Castiel further into his mouth, flicking his tongue against the sensitive underside of his head each time he pulled back. Keeping his lips tight, he increased the suction along with the speed encouragingly until _finally_, he felt Castiel start to rock his hips in time with him.

Dean's own arousal ached as he continued to tend to his boyfriend's need, but he helped himself along by grinding down into the sheets, sighing when the friction eased some of the urgency. He would get taken care of soon enough. Castiel never left him in need, and the thought about what he might do to Dean when he finally woke up made him move his hips harder against the bed.

Castiel's lips slowly parted as his breathing picked up, soft gasps and sighs and moans, each sound making Dean shiver with the anticipation of a_ny second now_. It was almost exhilarating, not just the waiting, but the natural need that he was making Castiel feel, his movements uncontrolled and urgent as he thrust harder and further down Dean's throat.

What Castiel was doing to him wasn't something thought out, or planned, and had that forbidden edge that made it all the more amazing. Castiel wasn't in control right now- Dean was taking him apart, and Castiel didn't even _know_ it. With that thought fresh in his mind, Dean stilled his hips against the sheets, relaxed his throat, and took Castiel all the way down to the base of his erection, swallowing around him, and causing him to jerk violently against him.

Suddenly, two strong hands gripped Dean's hair, pulling hard enough that he grunted in pain as something warm shot down his throat. Dean chanced a glance up and saw Castiel's head thrown back against the pillow, mouth open in a silent scream as his hands held the back of Dean's head. He hadn't swallowed fast enough, and his boyfriend's orgasm leaked from his lips when he pulled back. Castiel's spent erection lay softening against his stomach.

There was no hiding his smug grin as Dean nuzzled Castiel's thigh and looked up at him, licking the cum from his lips seductively.

"Good morning, baby," Dean said as if it were perfectly normal to make your boyfriend fuck your mouth while he slept.

Castiel gazed down at him, still trying to catch his breath, his expression a mixture of surprise and reverence, and Dean was just so fucking proud of himself.

Fingers carded through his hair, far more gently than they had in the throes of Castiel's climax, and he leaned into it.

"Get up here, Dean," Castiel replied, and Dean almost stumbled in his haste to get to him, because Castiel was smiling and so clearly pleased with him and _yes_, it was time for his reward for being so good.

Castiel sat up and gripped the back of his neck the moment his face was near enough to be pulled in for a rough kiss. The rest of his body fell into place around Castiel's, arms grasping his shoulders, his legs straddling his lap, and it was impossible not to press his arousal against him, aching now from neglect. But he didn't worry; there was no urgency in his skin- his job was done, and he knew he would be taken care of soon.

Teeth worried his lower lip and Dean whimpered at the sharp feel of it. Castiel soothed the bite with his tongue, encouraging Dean to open his lips and let him in, and Dean was only too happy to obey. Dean moaned when he felt his tongue lick into his mouth, and without deciding to do so, his hips rolled in time with it.

Warm hands caressed over Dean's thighs, one of them wrapping around his back to pull him closer, the other reaching between them to grasp at his erection.

Dean hummed in appreciation against Castiel's lips as the grip tightened, and started to move.

And that's when Castiel's phone went off.

Dean let out an undignified sound of protest when Castiel stopped and let him go to reach over the nightstand for his vibrating cell.

Determined not to lose his boyfriend's attention to the asshole on the other line who had the world's worst timing, Dean pressed soft kisses to his Castiel's neck, nibbled gently on his ear, each touch saying "_Pay attention to me, I'm more interesting, I promise_." When even his needy sounds didn't work, he started to shift impatiently in his lap, letting out a none-too-quiet huff of breath that only got Castiel to give him a stern look.

Reluctantly, Dean stilled and waited quietly for the call to finish, resting his head on Castiel's shoulder, and listening to his end of the conversation.

"Yes, of course," Castiel was saying, and even in his wired state of arousal, he noticed his exasperated tone. "No, I understand."

And then-

"I'll be there right away, I'm leaving now."

Well, surely not right _now_ now? Dean fixed Castiel with the most pathetic '_Don't-leave-me-like-this_' look he could muster as he ended the call and returned the phone to the nightstand.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Castiel said, and though he really did look it, it did nothing to make Dean feel any better. "Something's come up at the office, they need me there now."

His arms came up, grabbing Dean by the shoulders to ease him away, and Dean latched on to him, arms wrapping around his neck, his hips thrusting up once, and making a needy sound. This couldn't be happening, it was so _unfair_. Couldn't Castiel just give him five minutes? Hell, even just two, they both knew he could do it if he wanted to.

"Dean," Castiel said, his voice strict this time when he pushed him back. "This is serious, I have to go."

"Fine," Dean bit back, rolling off of him and getting back under the covers. Sure, he was acting a little childish, but did he mention how unfair this was?

He heard Castiel sigh as his weight left the bed.

"I'll be back in a few hours," he said, and Dean could hear the ruffling of his clothes as he dressed. "I promise I'll take care of you when I get home."

Despite his frustrations, he still let Castiel kiss him goodbye before leaving.

Whatever the problem at work was, it was clearly bigger than he had thought. The few hours that were originally supposed to occupy Castiel's time stretched out to the whole day, and most of the night. As each hour passed, Dean seriously contemplated just taking care of himself, but honestly, where was the fun in that? No, he could wait. He _would_ wait. He was sure it would be worth it.

When Castiel did finally get home, it was almost midnight, and though Dean didn't think his boyfriend had earned such kindness from him that day, he undressed him when he collapsed, exhausted, on top of the bed, and tucked him in under the covers. He even remembered to switch off his alarm. Tomorrow was Saturday, and Castiel had Saturdays off.

So help him, Castiel was going to give him some attention.

* * *

When he awoke the next morning, it was in an empty bed. Lazily rolling over, he glanced around the bedroom, catching sight of the alarm clock; it was almost noon. He took up the whole bed when he stretched his arms and legs out with a grunt, the fog of sleep in his brain gradually dissipating as he came to. Dean had never been a morning person like Castiel, and could count on one hand the times he had ever woken up before him-

His eyes flew open at the memory of yesterday morning, when a sex dream had so unusually woken Dean up before his boyfriend. Everything that had happened in those first moments of consciousness played out in his mind's eye; Castiel moaning in his sleep as Dean took him apart with only his mouth, how he had made him lose control and fuck into him without Castiel even _knowing_.

He looked under the covers. Sure enough, he was half hard- not unusual for a lazy morning, especially when he was left so unsatisfied the day before. But today was Saturday- Castiel was home, and it was time for him to make good on a certain promise.

Fully awake now, Dean rolled out of bed and stalked into the bathroom. He preferred to be clean before Castiel made a mess of him. Like offering an artist a blank canvas.

In the shower, he had again made the decision not to take care of himself, fully ignoring his hardness as he scrubbed him body clean. Not because he didn't want to- hell, at this point, he was getting so built up, even a loose, lazy hand job could do the trick. But Dean had always had a bit of a stubborn streak, and damn it, Castiel fucking owed him an orgasm. An amazing one, of his own doing.

Pulling on some sweatpants, he stepped out of their bedroom. Usually, he would pad around the house naked; he wasn't exactly body shy, and Castiel certainly didn't mind, but with his intentions of getting the orgasm he deserved, he felt going out there naked would be a bit overdone, especially given that he was still half hard.

When he got to the living room, he found his boyfriend sitting on the couch. Some books and folders were placed on the coffee table, a few loose papers scattered over them. He leaned over the laptop resting on his legs, typing away on it quickly.

Dean curled up next to him on the part of the couch not occupied by papers, and wrapped his arms around his waist. Tucking his head into Castiel's neck, he offered him a small morning kiss.

"Morning, baby," Dean said against his neck. The typing stopped, and strong arms encircled him, pulling him into a hug. He felt lips press into his hairline as Castiel sighed.

"Good _afternoon_, Dean," he said with a hint of amusement. "I take it you slept well?"

"Yeah," Dean pulled back slightly to rest his head on his shoulder, looking up at him. "You've been up long?"

"Just a little. Got a lot of stuff to do today," Castiel sighed. "Someone messed up pretty bad yesterday, and accidentally deleted a bunch of files from our archives. I have to try and remake all the ones I can for our records. It's gonna take all day."

Um, no. _Dean_ was supposed to take all day.

"Well," Dean started, suggestion rich in his voice. "It's not like you can't take breaks, right?"

Castiel shifted on the couch until he was fully facing Dean.

"I know what you're getting at," Castiel smiled knowingly at him. "And I have not forgotten the promise I made to you yesterday." His smile turned sad and apologetic. "But this is very important, and if I get it done fast enough, I could be a shoe-in for that promotion. I _have_ to get this done today."

Dean was caught between wanting to be the good, understanding boyfriend, and not losing Castiel to his job two days in a row. Nodding, he gave his boyfriend another kiss.

"Okay," Dean said, and if he couldn't keep all of the disappointment out of his voice, it wasn't his fault. "I get it, you're busy. You go 'head and finish working."

With a 'Thanks, Dean,' from Castiel, he got up and went back to the bedroom. It sucked not always being the top item on Castiel's to-do list, but lately Dean had been feeling a little more than just ignored. It pained him to admit it, but there were times when he felt forgotten, like he really was losing his boyfriend to his work. Castiel worked so hard all of the time, and yes it was important, but other things were just as important as well. Like making sure your boyfriend felt needed and appreciated.

And loved.

Throwing himself heavily on the bed, Dean let his frustration grow. It wasn't fair. He knew Castiel loved him more than anything, but sometimes, Dean felt he lost track of his priorities. If only there was someway to explain himself fully- after all, if Dean didn't communicate what he was feeling, then he was half of the problem. But he had never been good with heart-to-heart talks, and if he went out there right now and tried to talk about his _feelings_, he knew Castiel would be distracted by his work, and would probably think Dean was just upset that he wasn't getting him off like he promised, and while that was a concern, there was a much larger underlying problem that he didn't want being brushed aside.

Dean just didn't know how to talk, he had always been better at saying things with his actions and body language. He stared up at the ceiling above their bed, thinking. How could he get Castiel to understand how he felt second to his work? How could he get him to see he wasn't giving Dean enough attention?

The idea came to him so fast it sent his mind reeling. Okay. If he couldn't go to Castiel, maybe he needed to make Castiel come to him. He needed to show Castiel that it was okay to take breaks from working, that his job would still be there if he gave himself some breathing room. He needed to remind his boyfriend that he could have a good job, and still have some fun.

Fun in the shape of Dean.

It was all just a matter of putting his plan into action. Where as going out there clothed had been part of the plan to gradually ease and persuade Castiel's attention towards him, now Dean wanted to _demand_ it. Not with words, but with his body. He removed his sweatpants and left them folded on the bed, looking down at himself appreciatively. Yeah, naked felt right. But he couldn't go out there like this; no, if Dean was going to demand Castiel devote his time to him, he needed to up his showmanship.

Reaching over the pillow, he opened the top drawer of his nightstand, fishing out the bottle of lube. He poured what he needed into his palm, and set to work. His devious plan had already gotten him a little worked up, and he was harder than he was before. Anticipation always did excite him, and Dean relished the way the adrenaline coursed through his veins as he thought out what he was going to do.

With a solid grip, he took himself at the base and flexed his fist up and back down. A short gasp left him at the feel of it, the abandoned arousal from yesterday morning and continued neglect catching up with him as he pumped himself. He loosened his grip to help keep back his need for release, his movements aimed to tease as opposed to bring him to the climax he so desperately ached for.

When he was fully hard, he let himself go, stifling a whine as the loss of friction, before picking up the bottle of lube again. He applied more to his first two fingers before reaching down past his flushed erection. With a sigh, he circled his rim, tight from inactivity, pressing just one of his fingers against it until he felt the muscles give way.

As much as he wanted to, he didn't spend a lot of time prepping himself, stopping as soon as two fingers could fit easily; this wasn't about him just getting off anymore, this was about luring Castiel away from his work so that he could regain sight of what was important. And oh, did Dean plan on being a sight.

He placed the lube on the nightstand, and got up. Dean was finally ready to set his plan into motion, giddy with the anticipation of it all, but he felt like it was missing something. If he was going to demand Castiel redirect his focus from his job of paperwork to the promise of Dean, he needed a bigger presentation.

Let's be honest- his body was amazing- perfect, even- but it was also something Castiel saw daily. This needed something extra, something unexpected, something that said, "_Hey, look over here! Wouldn't you rather be working on me?_"

And he had the perfect thing.

Dean nearly tripped over his feet running to their walk-in closet and dashing inside. Clothes were pushed aside and boxes were knocked over in his eager search until at last, hidden in a small white box under their shoe rack, he found what he was looking for.

It was bought on a whim, and only used once to surprise Castiel during their first year together. Back then, he had also been using it to get his boyfriend's undivided attention, except that time his only competition was the stress of their unpaid bills. But he had needed it to make Castiel forget about all of the chaotic stuff happening in their lives, and just focus on them, on _him_. It had worked like a charm then, and Dean was counting on it to still hold some of it's magic.

Walking back into the room, he placed the box on the bed, and carefully removed the cover. Oh, yes. This would do quite nicely.

A wide, pleased grin fixed itself on his face, and lingered there as he removed the garments, laying them all out on the bed in the order and fashion it was meant to be worn. Sitting on the bed, he started with the garter belt. The smooth black satin felt great against his skin as he slid it up, fastening it around his waist. A thin red ribbon lined the edges, with two small bows tied over the red straps that tangled over his thighs.

Next to be added were the panties. A matching set to the garter belt, the black satin had a shiny red trim that lead to a small silk bow at the front of the waistband. He had to adjust himself when he stood up and pulled it over his erection, the feel of the fabric bittersweet against his arousal; the panties were tight and confining, but the friction of satin on his heated skin felt amazing when he shifted, wriggling his hips to fit them on properly. He gently fingered over the thin black lace draped out like a small skirt, as memories of the last time he put it on started coming back to him little by little.

Sitting back down, he retrieved the first stocking, bending his knee to place his foot at the opening. He slowly rolled the hosiery up his muscular leg until the trim of it rested on his upper thigh. He repeated the process on his other leg and looked down in satisfaction over his decorated body. The stockings were black as well, the embroidered trim matching the rest of the set with a slim red ribbon wrapped around the hem, and small red silk bows at the front of each thigh.

Dean rubbed his palms over the smooth fabric over his thighs; why had he waited so long to do this again? The material, though confining, felt amazing against his skin, and it made him feel good to get prettied up. And there was the small perk that Castiel kind of liked it, too.

He stood up again, this time to attach the clasps from the garter belt to the stockings. Halfway through fixing the straps, he heard Castiel huff loudly in frustration from where he was in the living, followed by a low curse.

His boyfriend really did work hard. There was so much Dean wished he could do to make things easier for him, but there were so many limitations, whether it be time or availability or money. But not today. He smiled at the bedroom door in Castiel's vague direction as he finished adjusting the garter belt. Today, he was going to make everything better in the best way he knew how.

Turning towards the bed, he gazed at the final installment to his outfit. Last, but not least, Dean picked up the negligee off of the bed, letting the soft delicate fabric fall over his fingers. It was made of a thin black lace material with the same thin red trim as the rest of the get up. Dean pulled it over his head, and the fabric fanned out slightly at his waist, so sheer, his body looked like a shadow underneath.

He walked to the full body mirror in their closet, taking himself in, and remembering the first time he had put this on.

Castiel had had a long, hard week at work, and Dean wanted to surprise him when he got home. He stood at the front door, fully decked out in lace and satin, and waited for Castiel to come home. The whole time, his skin itched with the jittery feel of anticipation, his hands shaking slightly from the nerves. He'd felt amazing and sexy and confident.

Right up until the time he heard footsteps leading to the door, and the door nob rattled. Then he just felt stupid. Castiel had been so worried when he got home and couldn't find his boyfriend- his car was in the driveway, and his phone was on the coffee table, so he had to have been there. But he looked in every room and couldn't find Dean because he had hid himself in the pantry of the kitchen, fleeing at the last moment out of pure humiliation.

But Castiel had found him, and after some reassuring words and sincere promises not to laugh, he persuaded Dean to leave the safety of the pantry.

That first reaction- the expression on his face, the way his breathing hitched, the way his hands reached out and touched him like he was something precious- had chased away any notion in his mind that he wasn't beautiful like this.

Fingers tips traced the patterns of his stockings as Dean recalled that day. Castiel had made Dean feel so amazing, so _perfect_; he needed to feel that way again. With a last lingering glance in the mirror, Dean walked back into the bedroom. He was about to put his plan into motion before an idea occurred to him and he fetched something extra from his nightstand drawer.

This was it. Gathering his composure, shaking off any excess nerves, he stepped out into living room.

His walk was bold, his movements confident, but Dean was trembling on the inside as he stood in the middle of their house wearing black lacy lingerie. Castiel didn't notice right away (those few seconds felt like _years_) as he continued to type on his laptop. But then he glanced up- did a double-take, really- and his annoyed furrowed brow immediately smoothed as his expressed turned to one of astonishment and awe, jaw dropping as he took in the wonder that was Dean in satin panties.

_Don't laugh, don't laugh, don't laugh._

"Mind if I sit out here?" Dean asked, proud of himself for keeping his voice from wavering.

Castiel, on the other hand, had to visually shake himself and clear his throat before speaking. Dean didn't miss the way Castiel's breath hitched when he spotted Dean's arousal.

"Dean," he said, and it looked like it was costing him a great effort. "I really- this is important, and I- Dean, I need to get this done."

"No, I know," Dean replied, shaking his head, keeping his face straight like there was nothing special going on. "You're busy. I promise to keep to myself, let you finish your work."

He walked over to the small couch, adjacent to Castiel's, and plopped himself down like it was perfectly normal for a man to lounge around the house in a frilly negligee. He kept his treat from the nightstand hidden from view beside him, and ignoring the way Castiel had returned to his laptop, Dean started to touch himself.

Warm palms settled over his collarbone, and he pressed them into his skin, slowly dragging them down his chest, feeling the way the sheer lacy of his negligee stretched under his hands. Just as slowly, he dragged them back up, watching the material bunch up between his fingers. When he got to his nipples, he stalled, a small debate taking place inside his head before he decided no- Castiel couldn't kick him out of the living room for just being there, but if he made even the smallest noise, he would surely have a valid excuse to ask him to leave.

That didn't mean he couldn't put on a show visually. His thumbs rubbed firm circles into his nipples, and Dean felt his eyelashes flutter slightly. His hips automatically rolled with the pressure from his fingers, seeking out friction but coming up short. Knowing fingers teased and pinched at the sensitive buds until they tightened into hardness. Dean kept flicking them, he touches alternating from sharp painful tweaks to feather-light grazes until his chest felt tight and he shivered.

It took every ounce of restraint he had in him not to smirk or look up when the tapping sounds of typing stopped on the other couch.

He did, however, start to bite his lower lip and slant his eyebrows as he watched his hands sink lower and lower down his abdomen until they framed his prominent erection, straining against it's tight satiny confinement. His thumbs toyed for a while with the straps of his garter belt. As much as it pained him to do so, he kept moving his hands down, tracing the very tips of his fingers over the sensitive skin above his stockings. His skin tingled in the wake of their path, and he closed his eyes and just felt.

Soon enough, it became too much to continue ignoring his arousal, and he opened his eyes as his hands settled themselves on either side of it. Slowly, he brought his right hand over himself, just grazing over his bulge, and _oh_, that felt amazing. He kept the touch light, just bringing the heel of his hand down over himself, feeling the warmth of his it through the smooth, slick fabric. The texture of the satin shifted over his cock, catching against the heated sensitive skin and dragging, creating a delicious friction that had him gradually rocking his hips against this hand.

The thrusts started slow, the pressure light, but it grew faster and harder as the sensations built up and his body demanded _more_. In all of the sudden lust and exhilaration of the moment, he did not lose sight of his goal. Even though he did not let himself check, he could tell Castiel was watching him out of the corner of his eye, could feel his gaze hot on his skin as he followed the rhythm of Dean's hand, the short, eager thrusts of his hips.

Dean knew he had Castiel's attention- _finally_- and he was desperate not to lose it. He rolled his eyes back, and dropped his head against the back of the couch, panting softly through his open mouth. His tongue darted out to lick along his abused lips, smoothing the places where his had bitten them and making them tingle as he switched from palming himself to fully stroking.

So caught up in the moment, he almost missed it, the short gasp that came from the other couch. Luckily he had become attuned to his boyfriend's sounds, and his ears caught it. He had to risk it, just _one look_. He opened his eyes just a fraction of an inch, his vision still blurry and dark from his lashes, but he could see him; Castiel wasn't just shooting Dean glances, he was _staring_- mouth parted and lips wet from licking them, as if Dean were a meal; eyes wide and trained on his hand, still working himself over his black laced panties. His fingers were completely still on his keyboard, all of his attention focused right where Dean wanted it.

It felt like victory.

Now that he held Castiel's full concentration, he slowed his stroking, and looked back down at his hands. Reluctantly, he removed his hands from his crotch, and reached beside him. He tried not to chuckle at the way Castiel leaned forward slightly to see what he was grabbing for.

When he had it in hand, Dean pulled out his vibrator, his little treat from the nightstand, from it's hiding place. At it's appearance, Castiel full on groaned, and yeah, there was no ignoring that.

Dean looked over at Castiel, and saw him staring right back. Now that he could see him properly, he noticed how worked up he really was; Castiel looked about as wrecked as Dean felt, his breath coming in quick pants, his eyes dark with arousal, his jeans bulging at the front.

Keeping his gaze, Dean smirked deviously at him before shamelessly licking a wide strip up the side of the vibrator with the flat of his tongue. He gripped the end of it in his fist, and positioned the tip of it just outside his lips before wetting them obscenely. He started to circle the tip of his tongue around the head of the vibrator, before taking it into his mouth slowly, licking his tongue around it suggestively. Once it was pushed in far enough that he could feel it nudge against the back of his throat, he moaned around it. With his other hand, he went back to stroking his heavy cock in tandem with the way he pumped the phallic toy in and out of his slick mouth.

Castiel moaned at the ministrations his lips and tongue were lavishing on the fake instrument, and Dean relished in it. When Castiel's hands started to flex, white knuckling and then relaxing (a tell of his for extreme arousal that Dean knew very well, meaning that he was fighting himself for control), Dean pulled the vibrator out of his mouth with a loud slurping sound. Blue eyes were watching him rapturously, and Dean couldn't help but tease him further. When he caught his breath, he waited until Castiel met his gaze and winked.

It was like a cord was snapped. Castiel unceremoniously tossed his laptop onto the couch as he stood up and made a beeline for Dean. He barely had time to register what was happening, let alone try and brace himself, as Castiel gripped him by the hair at the back of his head and yanked Dean's head back _hard_ before kissing him.

Dean made a pathetic sound of surprise against Castiel's lips as his boyfriend climbed over him, breaking the kiss to roughly shove him back on the couch, causing the vibrator to fall on to the floor beside them. Castiel fit himself between his legs, grabbing Dean by the thighs and jerking him closer. Castiel looked down at him, and Dean couldn't recall ever seeing him so incensed as he tightened his grip above Dean's knees and forced his legs apart, spreading them open and pushing them down almost painfully.

His hips protested at the angle Castiel was forcing them into, and Dean involuntarily gasped at the feel of it. At the sound of his discomfort, Castiel let up just slightly, but continued to glare down at Dean, making him wonder if he had gone to far. He just wanted his boyfriend to give him some attention, to chose him over work- he hadn't meant to make him angry. He looked up at Castiel with worry (and maybe a little fear) creasing his forehead.

Just when he was about to apologize, offer to go back to the room, and wait quietly for Castiel to finish working like a good boyfriend, Castiel reached down and cupped his face, his hand gentle, his gaze reverent. He bent down and kissed his forehead, smoothing the worry lines away with his lips, before peppering smaller, reassuring kisses over Dean's cheekbone. When he reached his lips, the kiss turned deep and slow and all the tension Dean didn't even realize he had melted away.

Castiel pushed himself back up, his gaze taking in Dean's body properly. Warm hands retraced the same path Dean's own had made earlier, starting at his collarbone, pressing firmly against his skin. Down his chest, then back up, watching the soft delicate material crumple at his touch. Dean could only watch Castiel watching him, focusing on the way his eyes absorbed his figure as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Dean preened at the attention, at being the center of Castiel's undivided focus; it made him feel wanted, and special, and important and-

"_Ah_," Dean gasped, caught off guard when Castiel reached his hard nipples, still overly sensitive from his earlier treatment which Castiel repeated. His fingers pinched and caressed and tweaked and flicked, and Dean was a pathetic writhing form of pleasure on the couch. Then Castiel did something Dean hadn't been able to do on his own; keeping Dean's gaze, he bent down over his chest, biting the hem of his negligee and pulling it down with his teeth, revealing one of his nipples. Closing his eyes, he lowered his lips to it.

Dean bucked under Castiel's weight as tight lips sealed themselves over the abused bud, and sucked. Teeth worried the sensitive flesh further, and his tongue lapped at it gently before pulling up to blow cool air over it. The contrasts to all of the different sensations had Dean crying out before long, his hands reaching up to grab Castiel's head, fingers tangling in his hair.

"Cas, _please_," Dean bit out, his breathing ragged, and his skin feeling way too tight for his body.

Now it was Castiel's turn to look at Dean and smirk.

"Please _what_, Dean?" He asked. "Please don't tease you? When that's all you've been doing to me since you came out here?"

His tone was playful, but it had that sharp edge to it that foreshadowed the promise of more to come that made Dean shiver.

"You wanted my attention, Dean, and now," he chuckled darkly as he curled a finger over the other side of the Dean's negligee, pulling it down to free Dean's other nipple. Bending down towards it, he ghosted hot breath over it and watched Dean squirm. "Now you've got it."

The slow torment of his nipples almost had Dean in tears, a constant litany of sounds and fruitless pleading pouring from his lips, until finally, _finally_, Castiel drew one into his mouth one last time, sucking hard and pulling back until it released with a pop before kneeling back to observe his work. Dean tried to sigh in relief, but it came out as a whine. Looking down at his chest, he saw the damage Castiel's lips and teeth had caused; both of his nipples were a dark purple-red, the area around them covered in hickeys and bite marks, and though it burned so fucking bad, he loved the sight of them, and what they meant.

Marks were possessive, and Castiel had covered him in them. Dean sighed as the feeling of _belonging_ coursed through him, and fuck, it had been so long since Castiel had claimed him like this.

When he looked back up, it was to blue eyes watching him intently, and Dean realized Castiel had noticed his reaction. It seemed to trigger something in him, seeing Dean's pleased reaction to his marks, and he continued to trail his hands down his body. When he got to Dean's panties, he stared for a moment before flashing Dean a sly grin.

Fingers worked their way into his waistband, and slowly, Castiel pulled them down and off, dropping them onto the floor beside the couch. Dean was still painfully hard, the head of his cock flushed red and leaking precome. Castiel traced a cruel finger up the bottom of it, wriggling the tip against the bundle of nerves right below the head.

Dean thrust his hips into the light touch, and it was taken away quickly. He opened his eyes to glare at Castiel, but didn't have the chance before hands settled under his knees and pushed them up towards his head, bending him in half and forcing his bare ass into the air. Castiel adjusted his position so his knees were pressed under Dean's shoulder blades and _oh_.

Oh, Dean knew this position. It was Castiel's favorite for rimming, getting to watch Dean's reaction to everything he did, watching Dean come apart with just the smallest of his efforts.

Wide eyes met Castiel's smirking ones as he felt warm breaths ghost over his entrance.

"Hold you knees, Dean," Castiel ordered casually, and Dean scrambled to obey, replacing Castiel's grip with his own.

His boyfriend was certainly taking his time, fingers caressing over Dean's thighs and ass until he shifted his hips with impatience. It earned him a swift smack to his upper thigh as Castiel tsked at him.

"I thought you wanted me to take care of you, Dean," he chastised. "If you wanted to make the calls, you could have done it yourself."

Dean immediately stilled, letting Castiel know exactly who was in charge, and he murmured "Good boy," before tracing his tongue around the outside of his hole.

"_Fuck,_ yes," Dean moaned, as Castiel continued to swirl his tongue in smaller and smaller circles until he reached this entrance in the middle of the spiral. The licks started out small, just shallow little touches and presses, getting Dean's hole to open up to him. He was still open and slick from his prepping earlier, and he knew Castiel could taste the lube, could feel the muscles easily relax and part for him, would know exactly what Dean had done to himself just before coming out here and putting himself on display for him.

Strong hands suddenly gripped Dean's cheeks, spreading them wide and Castiel pushed his tongue as far into him as it would go and pulsed it in and out in quick thrusts. Dean rolled his hips in jerky motions trying to keep rhythm with it, but was ultimately unable to keep up. His gasps and whimpers became groans and shouts and he knew his throat was going to be sore tomorrow, but he couldn't stay quiet for the life of him, not when Castiel was fucking him with his tongue, and _biting_ at his rim.

Soon the tongue left his hole, tracing up his perineum and around his balls to stroke up his neglected cock. His body sang at the contact, his libido crying '_finally!'_, as that amazing tongue ran up and down his length, and Castiel lowered Dean's body back to the couch. Dean let go of his knees to reach for Castiel's head, his hands shaking from the build up to this moment.

Dean couldn't look away, seeing the way his stocking-dressed thighs framed Castiel's face, his own fingers tangling in his hair, the way Castiel closed his eyes before taking the head of his cock between his lips- everything he saw in this moment was _perfect_, and he wished it would last forever.

Until Castiel started to suck him down, then he needed the moment to hurry up and get to his release.

A warm fist closed around the base of his cock, working in time with Castiel's hot, slick mouth. His blood felt like it was boiling at the fast pace Castiel had set, and try as he might to stay still, Dean found himself rocking his hips up into the tightness of his boyfriend's mouth, and _fuck_, Castiel just let him. It was sloppy and fast, as if Castiel had finally decided to show him some mercy and not tease him to the edge and hold him off. Dean didn't think he could take any more of that and not lose his mind.

He watched his cock disappear again and again between Castiel's lips, felt that perfect tongue of his circle along the head on each pass, melted at the beautiful sounds resonating deep in his throat and echoing against his dick as Castiel moaned, and fuck Cas, yes, yes, _fuck, __yes, oh god-_

"Cas, I'm gonna-" Dean warned, but Castiel only removed his hand from the base of his erection, took him all the way down, and swallowed and Dean was _gone_ in the rush of his climax and Castiel's name on his lips.

He wasn't sure how long he was away, but when he came to he was still flat on his back, and gentle hands were caressing his skin, keeping him grounded as his orgasm passed and his breathing evened. Castiel was kneeling between his spread legs watching him, his expression fond and affectionate and there was something else, something hidden behind his eyes that Dean couldn't quite identify.

The warm, solid weight of Castiel's body draped over his as he nuzzled into Dean's neck. When his erection jutted against his side, Dean tried to reach between them for it, but his hand was swatted away.

Soft kisses pressed into his neck where Castiel's lips laid against him, and they stayed like that for a moment, just holding each other. Dean brought his arms up, still heavy and weak from his orgasm, to wrap around his boyfriend's shoulders and play with the hair on the nape of his neck. A hot gust of breath tickled over his neck as Castiel sighed and pushed himself up to look into Dean's face. That unidentified look was still there when their eyes met.

"You know you're perfect, right?" Castiel asked.

Immediately, Dean averted his eyes, looking away reflexively at such compliments- the open honesty and high praise that Castiel gave Dean always made him blush harder than any blow job ever did.

"Look at me, Dean," Castiel said, and his voice was soft, coming out more as a plea and less as an order. There was a heavy moment between them as Castiel just stared at him, his eyes roving over Dean's face as if trying to memorize it.

Then, with another sigh-

"I'm sorry, Dean." They were quiet, his words, but sincere, and he continued before Dean could interrupt. "I know I haven't been the most- _attentive_ boyfriend lately. I know I've been caught up in my work, and though it was never an intention of mine, I've been ignoring you."

Dean kept quiet, knowing Castiel needed to say these things to him, to get it out, so he continued to stroke fondly at his hair.

"You've always been so good and understanding, and I want you to know I _do_ notice it. I keep making you promises that I don't hold up to, and it's not fair to you. And then, instead of arguing or threatening to leave me, like anyone else would have by now, you go and pull stunts like _this_," he smiled down at Dean's body before looking back at him, and his expression was so open and loving and something soft fluttered in Dean's chest at the sight of it.

"I have no idea what I ever did to deserve you, but Dean, I _swear_, I'm going to earn you again. I _am_ going to be the boyfriend you deserve."

Castiel stopped talking then, and if Dean's eye were a little wetter than usual, it wasn't his fault. Having no words of his own, Dean pulled Castiel closer and they kissed and held each other and Dean realized he had spoken too soon, because surely, _this_ was the perfect moment. It could be argued that there was allowed to be more than one, which was good as their relationship was full of them.

When they had to stop kissing to catch their breath, Castiel pulled Dean up until he was sitting in his lap, both legs on one side. His boyfriend's hand caressed his back, fingers playing with the trim of his negligee, as the other reached over to the coffee table where his cell phone was sitting.

After pressing a few buttons, he put the phone to his ear, and Dean listened to Castiel's side of the conversation. He had called his boss. He was taking his vacation days. Starting tomorrow. No, it couldn't wait another day.

Dean heard his boss say something about his priorities not being where they should be.

"You're right," Castiel agreed. "That's why I'm taking some time off."

When he ended the call, Castiel picked Dean up and carried him to their bedroom.

The next few hours were spent lavishing Dean with all of the attention and praise Castiel's mind and body could offer him.

The next few days were spontaneously spent at a beach resort, where Castiel had chased Dean into the ocean because he had decided to dump a bucket of cold water on him when he had laid out for a tan.

The next few years were spent with Castiel never getting that promotion, but finding himself happier than he could ever imagine being, thanks to Dean, who would always find ways to make him live up to his promises, and never let him lose track of his priorities again.

* * *

**Author's Note**: So I started thinking of that "Dean-hiding-from-Castiel-in-a-pantry-while-wearing-lingerie" scene and now I'm making a prequel? Like, that's a thing that's happening? It's in the works for those who are interested in that. As usual, any feedback would be amazing. Hope you liked it!


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